


Intermission

by supplimint



Category: Black Survival (Video Game)
Genre: Animal Death, F/F, Fluff, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-22 05:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15574602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supplimint/pseuds/supplimint
Summary: Amidst all the daily horrors at Lumia Island, Fiora sometimes carves out some private time for Jenny and herself.





	Intermission

She’s stuck in the forest. _Been_ stuck, for the better part of the afternoon, setting her broken legs. The actress eyes them critically. They work just fine now, but she’s still stuck in this damned clearing, waiting for Fiora to come back.

She dreads the possibility that while she was useless, Fiora might have been cut down, dying somewhere far and lonely, and leaving Jenny as easy pickings. The announcements had only said that there were four, then three, then two subjects remaining, with the dead subjects’ names omitted as usual. She could only wait and hope that Fiora could make it back to this rendezvous point.

_The area’s crow should show up any minute now…_

Jenny starts twiddling her thumbs, wishing that there was something she could _do_ without potentially giving away her position.

She’s already searched the surroundings for anything useful, and re-checking inventory could make noise or distract her from a potential ambush. There’s also no use keeping perimeter watch for a base camp of one, not that she’d ever _want_ to do perimeter watch. She’ll just stay right at camp and stay safe, thank you very much, even if she feels like there are eyes tracking her every move from the bushes.

So she does, and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

She pats her hip holster to check that her gun is there for the seventh time. She can’t check its ammo count for fear that someone or something will hear the cartridge clicking, but she can at least damn well make sure that she can pistol whip whatever comes at her.

 

When she finally sees Fiora coming back from the hotel safe and sound, head held high as always, her shoulders sag with relief.

With the sun setting at her back, Fiora resembles like the radiant knight at the end of a fairytale, where she slew the dragon and won the hand of the kingdom’s princess. A cut-and-paste plot, simply point A to point B, and when the epilogue started, Jenny would wake up the next morning next to Fiora to head to the wedding halls that evening.

“I’m back,” says Fiora, coat sleeve stained and dripping red. Jenny sees that the arm guards she gave her protected her arms from the worst of whatever she encountered, but her underarms are slashed and bleeding sluggishly. That type of serration is most likely from another blade user - _maybe that Yuki kid or scumbag Shoichi?_ Jenny leans forward to inspect the wound closer when Fiora brings out something from behind her back.

“For you,” she says. It’s a wine-red rose so crimson it looks bloody, but Jenny could never hate the color even after coming to the island. Her face lights up as she gently brings it to her face to waft its scent.

“Freshly picked,” she beams. “Thoughtful as always. But you should know, just having you back is present enough for me.”

She feels Fiora perk up at that and relishes in the rush of affection that it brings her, but she’s not done yet. Tilting the blossom to the other’s face, Jenny coaxes her closer to the bud. “Here, have a sniff. Every time I do this, I swear they smell a little crisper.”

Fiora indulges her, closing her eyes and letting Jenny take the lead. Jenny takes the opportunity to cup the other’s face with her hand and brings her face to the flower, stroking the corner of Fiora’s lip with her thumb when it curls up. She notes that Fiora’s head is resting a little heavier on her hand than she usually would and a little part of her happiness dampens into melancholy. _Her poor little knight, braving so many trials. She must be so tired._

“It’s very sweet,” sighs Fiora. Her breath catches in her throat as Jenny’s thumb slows to a stop on her cheek. She stays still, surrendering herself to however Jenny wants to move her. Jenny chooses to savor the blatant show of trust and affection and lets themselves be suspended in the moment.

Several moments later than she would’ve normally drawn away, her knight opens her eyes to stare into Jenny’s. In Jenny’s eyes, the fading sunlight crowns Fiora in a halo. In hers, Jenny’s eyes seem to hold the sun itself.

_“Caw!”_

Jenny muffles a yelp and whirls around to see a diving-bombing crow. She snatches out her Baretta from the hip holster and shoves the rose in its space. She can’t remember how many rounds she loaded in but _she doesn’t have the time_.

Before she can even raise it, Fiora yanks Jenny backward into her embrace with one arm while thrusting the other one out. It’s so fast that Jenny’s head hasn’t even hit Fiora’s chest when she cuts the bird into two pieces with one swing of her rapier, but it’s not enough to stop it from biting a chunk out of Fiora’s arms before its halves crash onto the ground.

 _“Aaargh-”_ Fiora chokes off her shout but it only turns into a guttural snarl. Jenny’s heartbeat pounds in her ears while Fiora’s snarl reverberates through her from where they touch.

“Fiora? _Fiora!_ ”

Jenny frantically turns around and brings the arm up for inspection. _Oh no._ The bleeding was still mostly from surface wounds before, but now she can see the outline of bone through the veil of muscle left.

Jenny herds Fiora to the base of a tree. “Sit, sit,” she urges, and roots through the trial-allotted rucksack next to her for the bandages. She sees Fiora getting up to help her and she hurriedly pushes her back down. _“_ I said _sit,_ I’ll be with you soon.”

Fiora only stops trying to move when Jenny goes back and starts wrapping her arms up. Jenny can’t help but be a little exasperated at Fiora’s previous unnecessary valor - Jenny could have killed the crow in two shots, or one shot and a punch. She may not be as strong as Fiora, but she can at least take care of the weak fry like that crow. Not to mention the absolute horrid state Fiora’s arms were in even before! And all the while Fiora’s being patched up, she _won’t stop making stupid comments._

“I’m fine,” Fiora attempts. Jenny scoffs a little and pointedly taps near her wounds, so she tries again.

“Some of the blood got on you.”

Jenny _hmph_ s. “That’s both yours and the crow’s, hon, I can wash it off after this.”

The fencer quiets down and takes in the sight in front of her. Jenny kneeling, fixated on wrapping her arm. Her golden hair falls over her face, covering her eyes that Fiora knows are warm and unwavering. The firm and gentle pressure of her hand on Fiora’s wrist is unwittingly reassuring as it takes her pulse - one of Jenny’s new habits after they got poisoned a couple trials back. Fiora wishes that she could hold Jenny’s hand to feel her heartbeat too.

A thought strikes her - _the rose, where’s her rose?_ It would be such a shame if it was crushed right after she got it. Fiora could always go back to the hotel to get more, but Jenny would dismiss the notion and insist on making the most of their time on enjoying themselves, saying that the hotel was too far away.

Her train of thought stops when she spots the flower in Jenny’s hip holster. Its petals are slightly crooked now, but still largely intact.

Fiora’s gaze snaps back to Jenny when her hold on her wrist loosens.

“All done?”

“Mhmm,” Jenny hums. She turns back to her rucksack, throwing out a _“Stay.”_ without even looking back. Fiora was scrambling up to make herself useful, but, well, if her lady insists, she’ll sit back down. The corner of her mouth tugs into a fond smile.

“Now, open your mouth. Aaah,” says Jenny, suddenly holding the grilled mackerel to Fiora’s face. She sounds little too gleeful for this, considering that Fiora had half her arm gouged out for this to happen. To her credit, Jenny _tries_ to be discreet about it, so Fiora only grumbles a little before acquiescing to her pushy girlfriend.

“This ish-” Jenny shoves half the fish into her mouth. _Chew, chew, chew, swallow._ “This is demeaning,” Fiora half-heartedly complains.

Jenny takes another mackerel and stabs Fiora’s lips with it. “Oh shush, you baby. Again, aaah~”

Her teeth stay firmly closed. Jenny prods them with the mackerel a couple times before giving up and shoving it inside her lips. The miffed rumbling sound that Fiora makes is absolutely _adorable,_ and Jenny pinches both her cheeks silly for it.

She stuffs Fiora with fish until the pits in her arm close up, and then heats up a pot of rice soup for the both of them. Hopefully by the end of dinner, Fiora’s body will have process enough calories and nutrients to completely do away any scarring.

“I think I’m fine now,” says Fiora. “We should save our food.”

Jenny harrumphs and digs out two spoons from her bag, and pouts as she realizes that since Fiora’s arms are functionally just _fine_ now, she won’t have an excuse to feed her. Maybe she should have withheld just _one_ mackerel...

Fiora, pragmatic as always, grimaces at both the fire and the sheer volume of food they’re consuming. Her eyes dart around the edges of their camp, but they shouldn’t be - Fiora and Jenny the only ones left, and besides, they’re hardly going to suddenly turn against each other.

When Fiora’s shoulders only wind up higher and higher, Jenny reaches out and flicks Fiora’s forehead with the second spoon, provoking a sharp breath from her.

“Quit worrying about it, think of it as a celebration! How often do we get to relax here?” Jenny scolds. “It’s fine, and we’re fine, so let’s have a good dinner.”

The pot lid rattles as the soup almost boils over, so she hurries back to stirring the soup in the pot.

“Yes ma’am,” says Fiora with a mock-salute. Jenny doesn’t need to look back to know that her tension has eased.

After dinner, they lie under the same tree canopy, Fiora resting her head on Jenny’s lap while Jenny runs her fingers through Fiora’s hair. There’s only the rustling sound of wind through the trees now, and with no crow to ambush them, the each of them are free to let their thoughts wander.

 _Fiora still has a little bit of baby fat,_ Jenny marvels as she prods her face. Surprising, considering that Fiora is both older than her and more active. It’s also endearing, especially when Fiora subtly shifts her face away from the intruding fingers.

Her fingers nip that the athlete’s cheek one more time before patting it and resuming their previous trawl through her hair. Fiora’s eyes become half-shut again at the lulling sensation, and Jenny’s lap bears the full weight of her head again.

 _She’s like Despereaux._ He’d been Jenny’s favorite character from since childhood, the one little mouse facing the king and his castle’s rat-filled dungeon just to rescue the princess. He’d had a sword too, just like Fiora. _But Fiora’s much stronger and fiercer,_ thinks Jenny, proudly.

“Hey,” she nudges Fiora and she perks up to stare right into Jenny’s eyes. The light from the fire turns Fiora’s chestnut hair a deep wine red. Jenny’s fingers slow to a stop in the flood of color.

“Yes?”

“Do you know _The Tale of Despereaux_?”

Fiora’s quiet for a moment.

“It’s the book where there’s a mouse in a kingdom that banned soup.” Jenny hints. “He can read and the deaf servant girl kidnaps the princess to try to replace her.”

Her girlfriend perks up at that. “Ah, I remember it from primary school.”

“Mhmm. You remind me of the mouse.”

“Really? How so?” Fiora grabs her hands and intertwines their fingers together, bringing them to rest on her own shoulders.

“Well,” Jenny ignores that her heart just skipped a beat. “He’s very brave and upright, and he has a sword, too.”

Fiora’s eyes sparkle. “The mouse tied it around its waist with some string, right?”

“Mhm!”

“I remember making fun of it for that.”

Jenny deflates a bit. _Well, I mean, I guess._ “But he’s very valorous and good-hearted,” she defends. “And he uses the rest of the thread to find the princess.”

The fencer smirks and Jenny swipes at her. “Hey, don’t make that face! I love that book!”

Fiora chuckles softly before breaking down into throaty guffaws as Jenny rains down mock blows with their intertwined hands. When that has no effect, the actress untangles one hand to assault her girlfriend’s face with flurries of poking, grinning triumphantly when Fiora stops to whine, crinkles her nose, and lies on her stomach to push her face into Jenny’s lap to avoid her fingers.

“Mmph,” she grumbles, miffed and muffled. Jenny laughs and pats Fiora’s head.

“Gotcha there, didn’t I?” she asks.

“Mmph,” Fiora grumbles again before turning back over on “Yeah, you did.”

There’s a brief pause where they go back to basking in the other’s presence, Jenny with her hand on Fiora’s head, Fiora with her head in Jenny’s lap, still holding hands.

Fiora breaks the silence.

“I don’t really see what's so great about that mouse,” she harrumphs.

“Hey!”

“All I’m saying is,” Fiora continues, “ _I_ didn’t need any string to find _my_ Princess Pea.” She finishes with a light _huff_ and turns up her nose, burying the top of her head into Jenny’s lap.

A burst of laughter escapes Jenny’s mouth and Fiora’s lips twitch as she avoids her eyes. _Don’t tell me she got jealous of Despereaux?_ She giggles as she pats Fiora’s cheek with her free hand. Her girlfriend doesn’t blush, but Jenny can feel her face getting hotter.

“Yes yes, he can’t even compare to you,” she placates. “After all, my girlfriend is so brave and resourceful-” she pinches Fiora’s cheek, “-and tall and stunning-” she tucks a stray hair strand behind Fiora’s ear, “-not to mention that she even brings me roses whenever she can.”

Fiora face only gets hotter still, but the corners of her mouth turn up into a self-satisfied smile and Jenny has to call upon every drop of her acting to keep from cooing at her. Or rather, even then, she has to bite her lip. But her overly honest face pays off when Fiora’s gaze follows the motion and stays there.

Jenny grins. “See something nice?”

“ _Very_ nice,” her girlfriend replies. “A lovely princess is smiling down at me. Do you think she’ll give her loyal subject a kiss?”

“I think she’ll certainly give one to her champion.” Jenny leans down as Fiora raises her head. It’s a bit awkward when their faces are upside-down to each other - their noses mash for a split second before Fiora rectifies the angle of her head, and they can’t keep it up for long since her neck is straining in the position.

Jenny breaks the kiss apart and laughs. She lifts Fiora’s head to substitute her lap with the nearby rucksack and joins her on the ground, slotting their hands back together and leaning in to continue.

They stay like that for a while, curled up around the other, kissing, chatting, laughing. When night falls, Fiora brings out a bedsheet she took from the uptown area to lie on, and drapes the both of them with her coat.

“Warm?”

Jenny burrows into her girlfriend’s embrace. “Mmhmm.” She yawns.

Fiora yawns too. “We should get some sleep.”

“Night, love you.”

“Good night, love you too.”

The clearing becomes completely quiet save for the crackling of the dying campfire. Fiora can hear Jenny’s soft, puffing breaths and the occasional breeze rustling the trees. It’s peaceful, looking at the unpolluted night sky.

She stargazes until she feels sleep overwhelming her paranoia, picking out the Big Dipper and Orion’s belt. She sneaks a glance at Jenny and smiles as she sees her dozing. She reaches out and brushes her finger against Jenny’s cheek. _I like you, I love you, I’ll be your knight forever, princess Jenny._

She closes her eyes and sinks into her embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic only happened because I thought that Jenny would connect Fiora to Despereaux because they both like,,,,,, have swords and are brave lmao. I really liked _The Tales of Despereaux_ when I was a kid.
> 
> Please leave a kudo/comment if you liked this fic! Getting feedback instead of just a +1 hit really helps with writing future fics!


End file.
